


Toast - cut five ways

by roo1965



Category: Stargate Atlantis
Genre: Friendship, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Team
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-06-01
Updated: 2012-06-01
Packaged: 2017-11-06 12:17:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 7,141
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/418845
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/roo1965/pseuds/roo1965
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ficlets-5 ways Sheppard and his team (but mostly Sheppard) are<br/>toast (1)<br/>eating toast/not hungry (2)<br/>toasty (3)<br/>raising a toast (4)<br/>toast of the town/celebrated (5)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. That running away thing

**Author's Note:**

> Genre 1- Team  
> Genre 2 Friendship  
> Prompt: 028 Five things

[](http://archiveofourown.org/works/425222)

**(Click through for art hosting page)**

* * *

“We are _so_ toast!” yelled McKay running slightly ahead of John, John’s hand pushing him ever onward and John twisting back round to check for disgruntled locals trying to throw pointy spear things at them.

“Well, if you hadn’t waved the LSD and had it rigged to _Orgasmatron_ , they wouldn’t have gotten angry with us when you tried to steal it!” John shouted back, annoyed.

“It was a half charged ZedPM!” wailed McKay.

“We _know_! That’s not the point.”

“It’s exactly the point! They were using it as a lava lamp! Wait… Woody Allen? _Sleepers?_!”

“Just keep movin’ McKay!” John growled as McKay slowed, panting and red-faced with exertion. “Left or right here?” John asked.

“Left! Call yourself a pilot, it’s a wonder…” but John was already steering McKay left as he spluttered. John could feel the Ancient-y tug of the Jumper ahead. Not that he would tell McKay that. Distracting him was part of the plan.

John opened the hatch with the remote as they approached, both of them headed to the front to start powering up. Ronon and Teyla dashed in half a minute later. Within moments John had the Jumper lifting off, even as the dull clang of something pointy and probably spear shaped bounced reassuringly off the hull.

All was quiet in the cabin except for the sounds of rushed breathing and the wiping of sweat off brows. John knew it wouldn’t last long, and one side of his mouth quirked up in a smile as McKay started to reach for one his vest pockets.

“God, I’m starving!” the scientist muttered, one hand gripping his tablet, the other still groping in a vest pocket. Sheppard flipped open a tac vest pocket, leaned over and placed a Powerbar on the console in front of him. McKay didn’t notice, just frowned deeper in thought, poking at the tablet with a huff- his quest for food momentarily derailed - until Ronon’s offering gently thwapped him on the back of his head.

McKay turned round quickly, all ready to berate him until he saw the shiny wrapper on the floor.

“Hey, what was that….! Oooh…..peanut butter!” he scooped it up, ripping open the wrapper and stuffing half of it in, in one go.

Sheppard could hardly bear to watch, he glanced back at the others but found only smiles and glances that said _everything’s okay, situation normal_. He turned back to the HUD and the window and ignored the power bar crumbs littering the console and the wrapper on the floor of Jumper One. Crumbs were easier to sweep and clean up than blood and guts. He’d take crumbs any day.


	2. Under the weather

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> (spoilers for 5.1 Search & Rescue)

The sound of a tray sliding onto his over bed table rouses him from strange sleep. He ungums sticky lids to blink open tired eyes, still half expecting to be pinned by fallen beams and stuck in the dark with Ronon.

He takes a slow deep breath. The smell of the toast with its melting butter makes his stomach roll uneasily and he gulps trying to control his gut.

“You’re awake- again! Finally!” booms McKay from the other side of the bed.

John rolls his head on the pillow to frown at him blearily - _again_? When was he awake the first time, he wonders. He begins to hitch himself up in bed so he doesn’t feel quite so horizontal and out of things. Multiple abdominal stitches stab in pained fury and he stops and leans forward gasping, one hand automatically going to the area as if to hold things in.

Rodney presses the remote to raise the bed angle. Pillows are suddenly stuffed and fluffed up behind his bowed back. McKay- fussing like only he can and daring Sheppard to say anything about it. He leans back slowly - he nods at McKay in thanks and closes his eyes, fighting the pain. Having a building fall on him also left many aching bruises and scrapes that he is just figuring out.

“No, no sleeping! Keller said you should eat and stay awake for more than two minutes at a time. Be a good little flyboy and I'll get your DS. That’s assuming I can wrestle it out of Major Lorne’s grubby little hands…..”

“Huh, what does she know, she’s not the one with the hole in her guts. Pass me the water? Lorne’d better not be messing with my Tetris…” John huffs tiredly. Much as he would like to up his score on the Nintendo, he can’t muster the strength to focus on it right now. He aches everywhere. His left hand feels uncomfortable where the port has gone in and the clip on his finger feels huge and awkward.

“She has a doctorate in Voodoo- as if that counts.” McKay sniffs dismissively, leaning forward to help support the plastic beaker of water with a straw in, when he sees John’s hand shake. “Not too much!”

John rolls his eyes as he sucks water and slowly aims the beaker back onto the bed tray, then stares at the unappetising, cooling toast. He looks around the Infirmary; he’s the only patient at the moment. He feels disconnected.

He wonders where everyone is and if Colonel Carter’s still mad at him. Rodney had mentioned before his surgery that she’d been recalled by the IOA- and that never sounds good. His sense of time is all screwed up and he doesn’t know if she’s back yet. And he’s too tired to get into it right now.

“You going to eat that or not?” McKay breaks into his thoughts.

John grimaces and shakes his head listlessly and feels even greener as he watches McKay chomp speedily through the toast. The ache in his gut is getting sharper with every minute.

“Are Teyla and the baby okay? How’s Lorne? Ronon?” he asks desperate for answers.

Footsteps approach before McKay can clear his mouth to reply.

“Afternoon Colonel, Rodney,” Keller greets them cheerfully. “Did I hear you asking about all my ex patients?” she enquires as she checks his med chart and glances at the IV bags and monitors.

He hasn’t forgiven her for her light-hearted remark about playing with his insides, but that’s mostly because his insides are throbbing and aching most insistently. What the hell did she do in there? Tap-dance, use safety pins? He has a sudden McKay like thought- _they didn’t leave anything in there did they…?_

“Yeah, sit rep Doc.” John gasps as his stomach flips, he swallows hastily. The water was a bad _bad_ idea.

“Well, I’ll say it again. Lorne’s leg was a clean break, it’s casted- he’s fine. Resting and on restricted duty I hope. He'll be crutching about before you know it. Ronon’s cuts and bruises didn’t hold him here long. He’s been in and out to see you, not sure where he is now. I still can’t believe he pulled that bar out of your side….. _Rodney,_ how could you! That toast was for the Colonel!”

“He didn’t want it!”

“I can’t stay in here Doc; I need to…..Lorne’s outta commission! What about Teyla?” John rushes, gulping fast hoping he isn’t going to barf, a sheen of sweat breaking out all over his body.

“Teyla and Torren are well; the baby’s doing very nicely. You on the other hand…have had a rough couple of days,” Keller frowns suspiciously at him, glancing sideways at the traitorous machines beeping faster.

“What? What about Sheppard?” McKay asks in alarm.

John looks over at him and the movement and sight and smell of the toast in McKay’s hand sends a rush of saliva to his mouth, more sweat pops out on his forehead as he breathes fast and shallow. He’s going to…. _oh God_ …..and he does… copiously and painfully everywhere.

There’s organised chaos for a while as McKay squawks in the background, chair scraping on the floor as he moves out of the splash zone. Rodney's shooed out of the way, assistance is summoned, and there’s the loud swish of metal rings as the privacy curtain is hastily pulled round.

Through the haze of the spasms tearing at his new stitches, embarrassment and generally feeling like crap, Keller’s calm voice grounds him, a cool small hand on his tense arm, and the quiet efficiency of her staff as they support and clean him up. While nurses peel off the ruined outer blanket and sheet, Keller pushes him back down, snaps gloves on and slowly peels the dressing off his wound.

McKay wails in the background about _too much information_ and _really not wanting to see that_ , but John’s drifting in pained fog and tunes him out, staring at Keller's face instead trying to read what she isn’t saying. Frowning, she warns him and then presses around his side, making him swear loudly and grab for the side rail in fiery pain. She opens a sterile swab, swipes it across his sore belly, caps it and orders a different cocktail of antibiotics and an anti emetic for him- scribbling them on his chart as she does so, as well as his next round of painkiller.

A nurse takes the swab from Keller and almost runs off with it to the labs. A fresh dressing is taped over the wound and stitches. A different nurse appears, putting on new top sheets and blanket, tucking them in and gently pulls the clean blanket up to his waist. He gets face wash and a mouthful of minty water to clear his mouth and is allowed a small sip of water to encourage his body that it needs the fluids.

Keller watches him for a moment after injecting a new brew into his IV before leaving him to it. Rodney looks a bit rattled and mildly disgusted, but moves the chair back to the bedside and settles in anyway.

Rodney’s a reassuring presence for now and he knows that Ronon will appear later. He hopes that Teyla will stop by with the baby. Something good out of the Michael mess that he still can't quite believe. He needs to check in with Lorne at some point too. Later though, maybe tomorrow, he thinks as the drugs start to blot out thought and his eyes drift shut and he relaxes into the sheets.

Until then there’s nothing he can do but lie there all hot and bothered and aching. An infection he supposes, not surprised given how long he was buried and then went gallivanting round the galaxy to find Teyla. He licks dry lips and knows that Keller and her team will figure it out. He’ll be fine in a day or so and maybe by then he’ll feel like having some toast. But he isn’t counting on it.


	3. The team that came in from the cold…an act in 5 parts

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> a Rodney Spoiler for Trinity 2.6  
> b Teyla Spoilers for Rising 1.1 & 1.2, Be all my sins remembered 4.11, Spoils of war 4.12  
> c Ronon spoilers for Trinity 2.6, Sateda 3.4, Reunion 4.3, Broken Ties 5.3  
> d John Sheppard spoilers For Rising 1.1 & 1.2  
> e Team

**a- Rodney**

 

Rodney was a genius but that didn't mean he had any people skills- just ask his sister.

 

He'd been exiled to Siberia and literally, metaphorically and professionally left out in the cold. He’d learnt how to swear in Russian and drink too much vodka in the long dark months and make his assistants hate him. He'd had to deal with the unnerving fact that he could be _wrong_ \- about the Stargate, about the fact that team mattered; about the fact that people mattered. It was a statistical anomaly. He wouldn’t be wrong again.

 

Eventually the SGC (and maybe Carter) had thawed and let him back in to work on the Antarctica project.  That led to going to Atlantis on a one way ticket, and a new galaxy and new awful people to work with. Of course within hours of arriving it looked like they were all going to die a watery horrible death or be eaten by alien space vampires.

 

Typical.

 

The unloved (by his commanding officer at least, the scientists and medicos were intrigued and all grabby hands over him) and un-military like Major with his ATA gene rapidly became a friend, once all the running around trying not to die was over. Rodney pondered many times on the variables in that. The friendship, being part of a team that went offworld shouldn't have happened or even work but it did. Rodney wasn't used to anyone just taking him as he was bluntness and all and keeping up with most of his thought processes. Another anomaly.

 

Sheppard expected him to work miracles and he did most of the time (because he was cleverer than most of the staff put together), even under the threat of gunfire, marauding Wraith and shattered DHD crystals. Sheppard trusted him to get the job done, to find or fix the impossible-but most of all to _know what he was doing._

 

Today he'd been wrong again, got Collins killed and nearly blown himself, Zelenka and Sheppard up in the process. Never had the words _I told you so_ , seemed more appropriate. No-one actually said the words but he knew they were thinking them. Hell, _he_ was thinking them…What possessed him to assume that just because the Ancients had abandoned a project that clearly went sideways, he could fix it?

 

Sheppard appeared so laid back 99% of the time that Rodney forgot about the 1% of furious incandescent anger that could flare up when provoked. And Rodney had provoked today, big time. He knew that _now_. Of course everyone made mistakes, nobody enjoyed being wrong. He would get through this.

 

How in Pegasus was he going to earn back Sheppard's trust now? How long before he was back in favour? A few days, week a month? Rarely had those eyes looked so disappointed at him. He did not want to see that again. Rodney didn't like being in the cold.

 

**b Teyla**

 

On the day her life changed irrevocably for the fourth time in her life, Teyla Emmagan, daughter of Tagan  looked up to see strangers enter the tent. The older warrior seemed to dismiss her immediately but still asked for trade- too soon and too sure of himself. The younger dark haired one spoke, obviously trying to smooth the way to a better trade outcome.

 

She was right to be wary- they didn’t trade with unknown visitors. There were certain forms to trade and ritual first. The dark haired warrior smiled and spoke strange words, Ferris Wheel; college football and things going over 200 miles an hour  had no meaning for her but the "getting to know you" part she understood very well.  The offer of the morning tea was, of course, a test that he passed, but his body language and genuine smile also acted as truths against deceit.  Half the battle was won.

 

By the end of that day she had been beamed onto a Hive ship and did not expect to live. The Major and his men appeared and rescued them all, but at a hard price that she knew the strangers could not yet understand, by waking the Wraith from their slumber too early and the loss of the Major’s  commanding officer.

 

Her new friends had strange ways. Rigid rules that sometimes seemed very impracticable. Clan like, and yet unyielding in some matters. They were both innocent and yet stupidly brave at the same time. It was very confusing. They could both learn from each other. They could be friends and family as well as warriors.

 

As time passed she learned the Major’s code. _Team is family_ and _Never leave anyone behind_. And now she had kept something from him. She did not know why she was so surprised at this- that John should be so angry, so unreasonable. It was true she had kept news of her pregnancy from all of them. She did not understand what difference it made whether she went through the Gate today or in three months time. She was also sure she wasn’t the first pregnant woman to be stunned by Wraith; she was not expecting any problems because of it. Jennifer had reassured her all was well.

 

Earth rules, stupid rules- outdated and gender specific. She didn't often see the hurt and anger in Colonel Sheppard's eyes. Male ego and pride and maybe a little hidden jealousy lurked within. She wanted to go with them to scout the Colonel’s Wraith’s ship. She could help!

 

She sighed to herself, annoyed. He would come round; he could not cold shoulder her forever. But she would miss him while the others told him what an idiot he was being.

 

**c Ronon**

Ronon ate with his fingers, the first meals he had on Atlantis. His military escorts said nothing. It was Sheppard who filled his own plate and ate opposite him, sliding cutlery across the table. No doubt hoping he'd copy him but not bothered if he didn't. Sheppard never pushed, just let him be. He could have a life of sorts if he chose. Sateda was gone, like Melena but there was always the hope of refugees, survivors somewhere out there. He had to believe in that. Along the way he could kill more Wraith. He liked that plan, along with food. So he said yes when Sheppard asked.

 

And he’d been proved correct on Belka; Solen told him there were at least three hundred Satedan survivors. But first he had dealt with Kell, in his own way as he should. Even Teyla had been pissed at him for his actions that day; she didn’t take kindly to being used. Sheppard didn’t know what he’d done. Maybe he had been a little hasty...

 

Finding Tyre and the others had seemed everything that  he wanted, to be with his own people once again. He was prepared to leave his Atlantean friends. But it had all gone wrong. No-one said much, just welcomed him back. This was the Pegasus galaxy- things changed in an instant.

 

This latest catastrophe, he wasn’t sure he could come back from, let alone return to the team. How could Sheppard forgive so easily when he couldn’t forgive himself? To become the very thing he’d hated in Tyre and the others- a Wraith worshipper-worse than being a Runner for seven years. He had been ready to kill his friends. He’d cursed and screamed defiance at them and still they’d come for him. He could not stand it. He could not speak to them, be around them. Not yet.

 

He needed to be alone.

 

**d  John Sheppard**

 

Truth was he'd always been a bit of a loner. Rodney would be shocked, assuming that he was a typical jock type with girls, the letter jacket and acolytes. His growth spurt made him lean and lanky and he preferred track to playing football anyway, though he enjoyed watching a good game with beer and popcorn. He loved riding his mom's horses and the cars he'd tinkered with. How strange for all his singular activities that he'd gone into a career that promoted teamwork and rote obedience. He was a pilot but there were also navigators and med teams with him too.

 

He existed in a separate bubble from his family and Nancy. None of them had understood how shattered he was after Mitch and Dex, not even Nancy, and how that had led him to go after the downed men against orders. The divorce had been awkward and hard enough. Cold shouldered and ostracised, the words _never come back_ and _not welcome_ and _disgrace_ ringing in his ears after the Holland debacle.

 

In the aftermath of the disciplinary hearing he found respite with a few pilots and excitable scientists in Antarctica. Trying to rescue Holland had scorched his emotional compass. The white and the silence tempered his boiling emotions. He was always completely himself.  He avoided getting too close to people again; it wasn’t safe even though it was a non combat posting. Some of them cold shouldered him anyway as rumour got out about his black mark and what he was doing in the middle of nowhere when the military needed all the pilots they could get for Iraq and Afghanistan. He got used to not explaining and not saying any more than was necessary. After a while even his new CO realised that his supposed "last chance" troublemaker wasn’t looking to buck the system.

 

To feed the need to fly at all costs, he stayed anonymous, quiet and efficient under the CO's radar, and tried not to squash any penguins or lose any scientists or their equipment during the shuttle runs. He had a few more years to get his time in. He would re-up just to spite his dad and the CO. Slowly he found the beginnings of balance. He thought he had everything he needed.

 

Everything changed the day he flew a cranky General over to the not-so-secret-base out of McMurdo and dodged some alien flying squid missile that was trying to blow them up. The battle rush was sharp and strong in his mouth, his body craving the excitement one more time as he landed the chopper onto the snow. He was glad the General let him wander around the base to calm down afterwards. His damned curiosity led him to sit in the weird chair. _What were the odds?_

 

He never imagined he could have a team again, he did not believe himself to be lonely until he wasn't.

 

**e - Team**

 

It was raining hard, they were off world and they were sharing a tent. 

 

"Singular," noted Rodney with a sniff, searching in his pack for  the bag of marshmallows.

 

"We know,” muttered Ronon not for the first time, beginning to whittle the first sticks.

 

" _Kids_. Don't make me come back there!" warned Sheppard, checking for the third time that he'd packed the crackers.

 

Teyla said nothing, basking in the usual verbal rituals of her team. She poured more wine into the goblets they'd been gifted at celebration dinner. This was their own 'after dinner' winding down ceremony.

 

And the word tent didn't really fit the current structure they were in. It certainly wasn't like an SGC regulation four man tent.

 

They'd tried that once and discovered that in no way did it actually fit four men. Especially if one of those was Ronon shaped and the second sprawled like Rodney. And Teyla wasn't man shaped, so they tried to give her a bit of space... and Sheppard just slept in the bit that was left over.  As soon as they settled, one of them would turn over and disrupt everything. Then the one on watch would come in and they'd start over again. Sleep deprived Rodney and Teyla were not pretty, even with strong coffee or tea the next morning.

 

This was their fifth year on Pria of renewing trade agreements and help celebrate the first pressing of the season, it was nice to have some sense of continuity.

 

Their tent was more like a big teepee hut, covered with waterproofed fabric and decorated with bright pigments. They had a small central hearth and smoke hole drawing up from the centre pole and a huge pile of furs and blankets. Their packs sat to one side. Even Rodney had abandoned his travel laptop.

 

They'd been through good times, bad times and even worse times and still managed to argue about the perfect way to roast s'mores. Which was what they were now doing, wrapped up in blankets round the fire, trying to be reasonably quiet due to the late hour and not wanting to disturb their hosts and neighbours.

 

It was cold and wet outside. Inside, the fire warmed their faces and feet. Hands held out Ronon's sharpened sticks with melting marshmallows on the end. An opened packet of Graham crackers lay next to Sheppard, some in his hand ready to put the marshmallow between them.

 

Rodney's suddenly flamed and he waved it about before smooshing it messily between the cracker. He looked up to see his team either smiling or smirking at him, but in a good way. "Trust me, 's the best way....ever!" he slurred slightly, a mix of the wine and a sugar high. Being with his friends like this warmed him from the inside out in ways he could never have predicted. He had a feeling they all felt the same way right at this very moment.

 

No-one would have to move out of the sleep pile tonight for watch duty. The Prians took it as a great offence that honoured guests should feel unsafe. Teyla had had to work hard on that the first time they had met the Elders. John and Ronon had had to work hard not to slip out anyway out of habit. Gradually they learned they could relax here.

 

The wine was finished and slightly sticky and sickly from the s'mores, they crawled into their blankets and furs. Automatically they arranged themselves into a pattern that worked for them. After a bit of shuffling, elbows and toes and Rodney's "Night John-boy!" because he'd had a little too much wine and Teyla's light Gibbs-slap on John's behalf, they settled into sleep.

  
  



	4. To honour

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Spoilers for Aurora 2.9

"To the crew of the Aurora," John toasted, raising his glass and clinking it against Ronon, Rodney, Teyla, Colonel Coldwell and Elizabeth's.

He took a small sip, the tart bubbles fizzing against his tongue. Not really his kind of drink, he'd have preferred a beer. The crew deserved much more than a toast to honour and victory, but it was what the Captain wanted and he'd promised. No doubt Elizabeth and Rodney could add something to the database. They'd found one ship maybe there'd be another one somewhere that they might actually be able to keep.

He found the champagne a bit sickly sweet and his headache ratcheted up a notch to noticeably irritating as he stood in the room nodding and passing through several conversations. He considered going to the Infirmary for something, but Carson had been worried enough over his time in the VE pods. Being in the pods was a little like going under the scanner and being in a jet with the canopy enclosed. He'd believed and trusted Rodney enough to get in the pods in the first place and it had been the only way to find out intel. Things weren't quite back to normal for them after Doranda but they were getting there.

Suddenly Elizabeth's office seemed very hot and overcrowded. He needed cool air and space. He edged round the room to Elizabeth's balcony and slid out into the night sky with relief. He gripped the rail with one hand and breathed in and out slowly, eyes closed trying to find some equilibrium. Seconds, minutes passed.

"Sheppard? You okay?" at Rodney's voice, John spun round. Everything wavered, flickered and tilted. Glass shattered. Sparks ignited behind his eyes. The tug of Rodney's ever present Ancient scanner jerked his body sideways.

Falling. Pain. Darkness.

~*~  
Rodney circled Elizabeth's office, glad it was all over. He'd seen the way Sheppard looked as the Aurora sacrificed themselves, haunted and proud. It was right that they'd been honoured and it should be recorded somewhere. He'd talk to Elizabeth tomorrow about it. He and Sheppard were on light duty pending Carson's test results. Rodney fretted again over how close it had been with the Wraith and VE pods.

His gaze settled on the Colonel who looked a little worn, and that slight pinched look usually meant he had a headache. Someone spoke to him and when he checked a few minutes later the Colonel had disappeared. Given that he hadn't gone past him he could only be on the balcony.

"Sheppard? You okay?" he asked. Sheppard turned round startled, and immediately began to tilt. His glass shattered on the floor as it dropped from lax fingers. Rodney took a step forward trying to stop his fall.

"What?!"

Sheppard's body twitched and trembled as he guided him to slump onto the floor. Activating his radio with a frantic slap on his ear he yelled

" Carson, Medical emergency on Elizabeth's balcony. It's the Colonel!"

Voices behind him clamoured for information that he didn't have as he felt for John's pulse and got out his scanner.

Sheppard jerked violently, his body arching, face rictus like.

"Oh God, Carson he's having some sort of seizure!"

"Bloody hell! Almost there."

By the time Carson and the triage team arrived Sheppard was quiet and unresponsive, the smell of the spilt champagne filling the air.

"Mind the glass. Airway check. Did he hit his head at All? Say anything?" Carson asked shining his penlight into Sheppard's eyes. His team worked round him, unbuttoning Sheppard's' shirt, cutting open his T-shirt to slap ECG electrodes on his chest.

"Nothing. I asked him how he was, he turned round . That was it, he started to pass out and, this may mean something but when I turned on my scanner it might have triggered a response but I don't know, could be a coincidence. He might have hit something on the way down, I tried to stop him but he's heavier than he looks."

Rodney rambled, scared and wondering if this was going to happen to him too. Just as he thought that, it obviously occurred to Carson as well as he suddenly looked up gazing laser like at him.

"Are ye feeling alright Rodney?"

Rodney nodded vigorously. "Fine, a little tired maybe. Mild headache."

Carson looked appraisingly at him before switching back to his patient, staring at the monitors output. "Okay people, make room." He ordered as they transferred Sheppard onto the gurney and hoisted the legs up and trundled out.

"Angie love, make sure the scanner is ready to go and get the EEG cart out as well. And see if any of those tests have come back yet." he asked, tapping his radio.

Rodney and the others followed at a subdued pace as the medical team rushed ahead to the transporter.

_'A toast! To ten happy years!' John didn't know why an anniversary was more important than a birthday and needed to have toast. And anyway toast was food not a drink, and he didn't like the bubbles, the drink tasted nasty. He wanted a cola. But he was in his best pants and shirt like Davy and dad had told them to behave. His mom had said the same thing, only in a nicer way. He hung around watching the adults talk and talk. He was bored and wanted to go outside but knew that he had to stay until they were told to go to bed. He slipped out to the kitchen leaving his toast glass on a table, and pulled open the fridge door looking for a soda._

_"Johnny. You can't go back in there with that! Mr Patrick will have words." Anna, the cook said as he popped the can. "Here," she said taking it and tipping some of it into an empty wineglass, "no-one will ever know." She pretended not to see him swipe one of the party sausage rolls off the oven tray as he left._

"Okay, let's see what the scanner says and then see if we need to hook him up to the EEG, though I'm inclined to do that anyway as this is an unprovoked seizure ."

Carson waited as the beam passed over the Colonel's limp body. He didn't like this length of unconsciousness. A nurse passed over the latest ECG strip and he studied the waves and intervals, connecting this data with that of the scanner in front of him. No obvious intra-cranial bleeds, although the Colonel had bumped his head on the way down.

_Dave and he knew the routine by now. All part of Patrick Sheppard business empire. Look the future!- my two sons. Yeah, right. Who wanted to work in an office all day talking on the phone and crunching numbers?. Okay, so he was good at math but he wanted to use that to fly planes. Just because he'd spent some time in the firm, (Dave had too), dad seemed to think it was a done deal. And here they were at another launch of a new subsidiary, more champagne and speeches. This time he couldn't swap it for soda._

Carson went and spoke to the Colonel's team, once he was sure his patient was stable and hooked up to the EEG and ECG with a nurse watching for events.

"So it's only been four hours since you came back. Did you clean up, eat and relax like I usually tell you to?"

"What about John, is he going to be alright?" Teyla asked.

"Yes, do I need to be worried?" Rodney butted in.

"I have a few theories running around at present, I'm waiting on a few tests as before. But answer the questions first."

His suspicions were proving correct as he realised everyone had gone for a meal except the Colonel, who said he would go later saying he had something else to do first. Rodney had later gone looking and found the Colonel on the pier and they'd walked back to the central hub together.

"I asked him what he felt in the VE, being surrounded by all that tech. Said it was overwhelming at first and them was just like the real thing."

"And how did you feel coming out?" queried Carson.

"Hungry and a bit lightheaded, a bit sweaty, but that could be from the fake adrenaline rush of having to fight wraith and not die."

_The bash his dad insisted on was huge. He was overwhelmed, none of this seemed his style anymore, he felt like an outsider at his own wedding. Nancy seemed to think it was all normal. There had been no way he could get out of having a quiet ceremony on the base. His dad felt "obligated", eldest son and all despite the running away to flight school instead of business school like he wanted. He wondered how much it hurt his dad to propose the toast to the happy couple. Dave seemed okay, maybe he liked working for dad._

_He wished he could still feel the buzz from the drunken bachelor party his friends had thrown. Not quite tied butt naked to the nose cone of the Apache, but pretty close. And what Nancy didn't know wouldn't hurt her. And he didn't want to hurt her. She was the best thing that had happened to him for years. He wished his mom were here to meet her. Dad seemed happy the Sheppard dynasty was getting back on track. He still hated champagne though._

Blood work finally came back as Carson sat by the Colonel's bed checking the machines readings. The Colonel was making some involuntary muscle movements, and he hoped would be waking up soon. There was plenty of brain activity going on at any rate, so he could tell Rodney that the Colonel's brain wasn't fried. He double check his findings and injected solutions into the IV, watching the monitors for any alarms in case he'd got it wrong.

_Loud music, plenty of beer and playing pool was how they spent celebrating their promotions, Mitch, Dex and Shep. "To us!" The Three Stooges. Or something, he couldn't quite remember now. Maybe it was the Three Musketeers. Whatever it was, it worked. As a frontline attack team they were the best._

_Until the day he cut short leave with Nancy to go back for the funerals. His buddies had been shot down by an RPG in Khabul and he hadn't been there. More loud music and plenty of beer for the wake.. Something in him died that day and there was nothing Nancy could do to fix it. He wasn't sure if he wanted her to._

"So, wait, you're telling us that the VE pods overwhelm the body's electrolytes and starve the body?" said Rodney in disbelief and partial horror.

"Yes and no. It's a little more complicated than that. You were hypoglycaemic when you came out, but I attributed it to your normal status quo. You went and ate and I gave you something as well. Sheppard didn't go and eat like I told him to and he doesn't normally suffer from low blood sugar. But other levels were out of whack too- sodium and potassium, which he lost through sweating in the pods." Carson explained to the waiting huddle of Sheppard's team, Elizabeth and the looming Colonel Caldwell.

"So this won't happen again, he doesn't have epilepsy or anything?" Elizabeth asked, worried.

"No, if anyone has to go in one again there will be protocols to follow. What happened to the Colonel was the result of many different factors all coming together in one unique event. Having read his report, he does state that he went in and out of the VE within a minute to confuse a guard. I wonder if the system was ready for that kind of extreme shutdown and start up, given how long the system was running with no interruptions. And there is the fact that he did suffer a jolt by being stunned whilst in the VE. I'm also considering the whole immersion in Ancient systems that may have led to a withdrawal like state. All of these disruptions and imbalances caused the syncope that you witnessed."

_"I think people who don't want to fly are crazy." he told the still cranky General O'Neill._

_"And I think people who don't want to go through the Stargate are equally as whacked. Now if you can't give me a yes by the time we reach McMurdo, I don't even want you."_

_A champagne bottle rolled out of the Gate and across the floor. The Gate shut down. Elizabeth picked up the bottle and read the label attached around its neck. It read: “Bon Voyage! General Jack O'Neill”. Weir smiled up at Sheppard and McKay on the balcony, showing them the bottle._

_"To the crew of the Aurora," he raised his glass._

Sheppard opened his eyes.

He didn't know what was happening. He felt nauseous and very tired. HIs head hurt. Everyone was staring at him.

"Guys?" he croaked.

"Well thank you for scaring the bejezsus out of me!"

"Um?"

"Rodney! Give the man a moment. How do you feel Colonel?"

"Sleepy, headache -what's going on?"

"You overdid it in the VE pod and didn't take care of yourself when you got back."

"Sorry."

"Well, we are very glad that you are going to be alright." Teyla said.

"What she said, buddy." Ronon patted his ankle and left. John knew he'd be back later.

"Here, have a banana." Rodney laid one down on the bed.

"What?"

"Ask Carson about it."


	5. Tall tales can be true if you wish hard enough....

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You can be famous and not even know it. Tall tales from small people...

It always starts like this. Three men and a woman walk into a bar.

Not a bar, that's far too poor.

Hey, we're poor and we have a bar!

Alright then a palace. Yeah that's more like it.

Barkeep, we need...

No, no they're in a palace! They'd be served spiced wine, sweets, the very best meats.

I heard one of them has to eat sweet things. It's his power.

What do you mean it's his power? That's stupid!

How else is he able to communicate with the electric box he always carries?

It's not a box, it calculates for him. You're thinking of his toolbox.

What toolbox? 

The one with the crystals in, dummy. How else is he able to mend the address device in front of the Ring? Stupid.

I'm not stupid. Besides they all eat. Maybe the tall one with the knives in his hair gets the most because he's been running for seven years. That sounds pretty tiring.

I suppose, although Bretta said he has a gun that glows red and makes people fall over.

Huh, a girl- what does she know of heroes? I don't see how that helps, surely they get up again. Why have knives if you already have a gun?

Maybe they tie up whoever it is they make fall over. Maybe he had the knives first and got the gun later! I bet he kills the Innin with the knife after the gun.

It would be the only way. You can't stop them from taking your soul otherwise.

That's another myth. The Innin is just a story, Jessamy. A scary bedtime story. How can they scream through the Ring and disappear people?

I don't know, it's what people say happens.

Okay, so they're in the palace they're eating our best food. What can we offer them?

What do you mean, they came to us! Don't they have food where they're from? Why do they need ours?

The beautiful princess always does the talking. Because she can see into the heart of any man. She always knows the truth.

You may have a point there, isn't Mummu always undoing what Fadu does when he's drunk? He may be able to fight but he didn't get us more land to plant crops in.

So she comes with them to trade our food for...for information.

That sounds boring. More grown up talking about useless stuff.

No, if they're fighting the Innin, they'd need to know who has seen them and they can get food along the way.

I told you , the Innin are not real and even if they were it was really, really long time ago. Okay? There can't be many of them left to look for anyway. So what about the third man, what does he do?

He's the one with the Blessed magic gifted by the Ancient Ones. Bretta says an Innin came close to him three times and he lived to tell the tale. That's how he survived.

Blessed! Ancient Ones!Now you are lying. Three times! Psshaw.

But I don't see how they could possibly get on. They do completely different things. How do they know what each one of them will do? I bet they don't even like each other.

Jessamy, you're my stupid little brodu, who spends far too much time listening to Bretta. I don't like you most of time, but when Stefan and Hulu cornered you last week, who came to help you?

You did Claudi. 

Right. When there are more than one of you, you can do more things.

I suppose. Hey does that mean.....

_"Claudi and Jessamy, come here at once. We have more visitors. I need help here."_

 

The two boys entered the back door of the bar their parents owned in Istar.

" I need more mugs and go and stir the zuppa, people are hungry out here."

"Yes Mummu."

"Now then, was that zuppa for all four of you?"

"Ah, yeah sure. Oh, it doesn't have any fruit in it at all does it, only Rodney can't have that."

"No. Does your lady want wine instead of the ale?"

"Nope, Teyla's fine with the beer."

"Alright, I'll have my boys bring them over in just a moment."

"So, things been quiet round here lately?"

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [Team...toast!](https://archiveofourown.org/works/425222) by [Trishkafibble](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Trishkafibble/pseuds/Trishkafibble)




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